Things People Say
by the queen of slurking
Summary: You're out chasing all your dreams, tell me where does that leave me? Mild language.
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing. Title comes from the song by Lady Antebellum. Sara Shepard owns PLL. Lady Antebellum owns Things People Say. You know how it goes. Just to make it clear, the influence of the song will show more in the next chapter than this one. Google the lyrics/youtube the song for clarity. Three-shot at most. Maybe a sequel if it's asked for. Don't hate me, y'all.**

Aria stood by the printer with a cup of coffee warming her hands, watching the printer spit out a sheaf of paper. This was about the most important thing she'd ever printed, as it comprised her entire application to study Shakespeare in England. Finally the printing slowed before the last page was released to the stack, and she gathered it all up, coffee forgotten, as she combed through every page, making sure everything was there.

Satisfied that all was in place, she left the computer lab and returned to her dorm. As a college senior at New York University, she had come to realize that although she might want to be a writer, it wasn't necessarily the most practical career-many writers struggled for years before publishing anything. Spencer had suggested she find something she was equally as passionate about to work at while writing, so she at least had a source of income. Aria had taken her advice to heart and was now applying to do a doctorate in Shakespeare, so she could teach and write on the side. The idea was that she would start getting published with Shakespeare-related articles and books so she could build up a professional reputation, then try her hand at publishing a piece of creative writing.

Ezra, however, had not been thrilled by this idea. He had suggested that Aria try writing a novel during college and building up her reputation that way: however, she found it difficult to write when she had more pressing deadlines to meet. When Aria had broached the idea of England with Ezra, he hadn't seemed to understand why she'd want to go overseas. Even when Aria pointed out that the program she specifically wanted to do was there, he had asked her if she couldn't find something a little closer to home.

Angered by this lack of support, Aria had decided to apply anyway and tell Ezra only if she got in. Even if he didn't support her, her family and friends did. And her professors encouraged her, suggesting that she could even gain a scholarship to go.

In short, it was a fantastic opportunity, and Aria was disappointed that Ezra wasn't supporting her more.

She finished collating her application and filling out the necessary forms. Her recommendations, transcripts, personal statement, the essay about why she wanted to study at Oxford: it was all there. She slid it all into the envelope, labelled it with the most careful writing she could and sealed it all.

A knock at the door interrupted her reverie, and she hurried to hide the envelope in case it was Ezra-even the prospect of her going to England was a sore spot between them, and they'd already had a few rows over it. It always came down to the same thing: while Aria wanted to go overseas, Ezra wanted them both to stay in America.

At times like this the age gap between them bugged Aria, as it reminded her that Ezra had already travelled and presumably didn't want to again. The thing was, she hadn't travelled much since returning from Iceland, and she was keen to get out and see more of the world.

Luckily, it was Spencer, reminding Aria that they'd had shopping plans today with Emily and Hanna. Spencer looked overcaffeinated as always, bouncing on her heels slightly as she watched Aria gather her things and then pick up a thick envelope.

"Is that what I think it is?" she wondered, then brightened as Aria showed her the mailing address with _OXFORD UNIVERSITY_ prominent on the front of the envelope.

Aria nodded, "I decided that Ezra isn't going to tell me what to do or where I can or can't go to do a doctorate. If I get in I'll tell him, but if I don't, then I won't. And of course, you and the girls won't tell anyone, so no-one else will know."

Spencer nodded her approval as they walked outside to meet the others at Hanna's car, Aria lingering to slip the envelope into the mail before joining them.

During the drive the four discussed their after-graduation plans: Spencer, to go to law school; Emily to gain her Master's in adolescent psychology while swimming on the side and Hanna, to try to start up her own boutique. Already, Hanna had a fledgling jewellery line and designed and sewed clothes for her friends.

None of them mentioned Ezra's disapproval of Aria's plan to go to England, if they would have her, and she didn't ask any further advice. All three of them had already given her the best advice they could, and it had culminated in her decision to follow her heart.

Upon returning to her dorm, Aria began organizing everything she had to start doing as the semester wound down. With two months before graduation, she had finished all her post-grad applications. That was the good news, she realized, as she logged into her emails to find reminders about essays due before the exam period and notices about what needed to be done before moving out of the dorm.

She started organizing what she had done so far, collecting up her notes for the Nabokov essay she had yet to start, before moving herself and her books to the library.

Four hours later, she had an essay outline, a very rough draft and a page of quotes to use. As she walked back to her room, she began mentally planning everything out. With a sinking heart, she realized that she was going to have to work almost completely solidly for the next two months to get everything finished on time, which meant she couldn't spend much time with Ezra.

On second thought, that wasn't the worst thing, if it meant she didn't have to worry about accidentally telling him.

~~~~ (7 weeks later)

With just a week left until graduation, Aria was beginning to freak out.

She'd completed all her assignments and handed them all in. Her exams were all over, and she'd stripped the majority of her things from her dorm and shipped them back home.

Out of the eight programs she'd applied to, she had heard from seven. Getting into five of them was great, and everyone had been pleased for her. The reason for her freak-out was that she had yet to hear from Oxford, who she most wanted to hear back from.

She ran back to her mailbox for what felt like the millionth time that day, and was about to return to her room when the mail guy called her name. He handed her the heavy envelope with the Oxford insignia, and she tore back upstairs to find the girls waiting in her room.

She felt frozen, paralyzed by her uncertainty. This letter was thick, which tended towards good news, but maybe Oxford was in the habit of sending really long rejection letters. Hanna, never one for patience, grabbed the envelope and slit it open, shoving it back at Aria.

_Dear Aria,_

_On behalf of the University of Oxford's Faculty of English, we are pleased to offer you a place…_

Aria couldn't help it-she screamed.

Spencer snatched the papers from her hand and read out loud, then flipped over to the next page. "Holy shit…"

Emily and Hanna pounced on her, reading over her shoulder. _"We would also like to offer you the Dean's Scholarship for achievement, which will cover all fees and course-related expenses for the duration of your course."_

~~~~ (2 weeks later)

Directly after graduation, Aria and the others had flown back to Rosewood to spend time with family. Aria had broken the news to her family over dinner, and everyone had encouraged her to take the opportunity. So far, she was leaning towards definitely taking it, but there was one last obstacle.

Ezra.

As soon as she said England, he'd be mad. Mad that she applied, mad that she was thinking of going and probably mad that she wanted to go.

He was due back in Rosewood tomorrow, and they had already arranged to meet for dinner. She'd have to break the news to him then, maybe if they were in a public setting they wouldn't get into another argument.

The time passed quickly for Aria, who was by now dreading dinner. Since she'd been gone from Rosewood, even more fancy restaurants had popped up. Not only would she have to break the news to him, she'd have to do so in an expensive restaurant and get all dressed up. Somehow, it didn't seem an even trade.

The next evening she pulled on a generic black dress and black heels. She ran the brush quickly through her hair and did her makeup in a rush, wanting to get the whole night over and done with.

Ezra picked her up, and complimented her on her outfit, although she barely heard him. As always he looked adorable, in a suit and tie that matched for once. He seemed to have made more effort than she did, which just made her feel worse. Normally, she loved to go out and get dressed up, especially if doing so meant spending time with Ezra.

Today though, telling him the one thing that could possibly break his heart was ruining any enjoyment she might have had.

As she got out the car, walked into the restaurant and sat at their table, she felt like she was moving underwater. Ezra finally seemed to pick up on her mood, and sent the waitress away before they ordered.

"I have to tell you something that you're not going to like at all… I got into Oxford's doctorateprogramandI'mgoing". The words spilled out in a rush, as if saying them faster would make them any less true.

Judging by the stunned look on Ezra's face, he'd heard every word clearly and didn't know what to say.

Evidently he was in denial about it, because they managed to have dinner without arguing. As he walked her inside, she felt a little like she'd just dodged a bullet. Of course, not talking about it now meant they'd have to talk about it tomorrow.

The worst part of it was that her flight the next day.

Ezra dragged himself out of bed at six A.M. the next day. All night he'd been tossing and turning and trying to make sense of the bombshell Aria had dropped last night. Maybe it had been some stupid joke, although Aria wasn't one for practical jokes. After he'd suggested that she find a program in America, he'd been sure that she would.

Hanna might have put her up to it… that could have explained it, although she looked completely serious. Aria had never been good at lying.

He decided there was only one thing left for it-go and talk to her. And if she was insistent on going, he wasn't going to argue. _If you love someone, set them free…_

With that, he showered, got dressed and ran out the door in record time. Aria's flat wasn't too far, but he'd drive anyway, just to try to clear his head.

When he got there, there was no answer despite his alternating between leaning on the doorbell and knocking. Looking around, he realized that there were no cars in the driveway and the place was silent. By now it was eight-thirty, and it wasn't unreasonable to think she and the others had gone out for breakfast.

A little after nine, he was still waiting when Spencer's car pulled up. All four of the girls were in it, and he felt a sudden wave of anger. He'd waited forty-five minutes-why hadn't Aria at least called?

She lagged behind the others, seeming not to want him there.

_Of course she wants you here. You're just being paranoid_, he tried to convince himself. At the back of his mind though, there was a nagging feeling that something wasn't right.

He followed her inside, waiting until they were in her room to start talking. It surprised him that all her stuff was still in boxes, not unpacked. A quick glance around the room revealed it was more than that: she only had a suitcase open and a few clothes in it. Evidently, she was living out of a suitcase. The nagging feeling became outright uneasiness, and he got the sense that her living arrangement here was only temporary.

Business-like, she opened the box labelled BOOKS and removed a stack, transferring them to a suitcase. Moving around the room, she repeated this method with clothes and a few personal things before turning to face him.

"I meant what I said last night. I'm moving to England to get a doctorate in Shakespeare. I didn't tell you I applied in case I didn't get in. I already accepted the place they offered" Her words were mechanical and oddly detached, as if she was watching herself performing on a stage.

The uneasiness intensified as he studied her face, trying to read her thoughts. "You know that if you go, I won't be coming with you? If you leave, it's over between us."

She nodded silently, trying to speak around the emotion. Finally, she shook her head and blinked: any emotion previously on her face was now gone and her eyes were cold.

"My flight leaves tonight. I should finish packing."

With that she turned away from him and began piling more clothes into a suitcase, then collected random makeup and dumped it into her bag.

He watched her pack for a few minutes more before he turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Aria planned to get the bus to the airport: it would save the trouble of paying for parking and finding somewhere to park. She reminded the girls which bus stop she'd need to be dropped off at and when, and they agreed to take her there together. She didn't want any grand farewell scenes at the airport, she just wanted to say goodbyes and get gone before she got the chance to change her mind.

Ezra paced his apartment, furious at himself. He'd just let her go, not fighting it at all. The real estate brochure he'd picked up the other day caught his eye, and he flipped through roughly, tearing the pages. He'd thought he and Aria could pick out a house together, something small at first, then find something bigger. Have a family.

That was gone now.

Unless… What time did her flight leave? She hadn't said, but it was a safe bet that the girls would know. Probably they'd be the ones taking her. At the least they'd be going to say goodbye.

He raced back to the flat the girls were sharing just as they pulled back into the driveway, minus Aria.

"We just dropped her off at the bus station opposite the pharmacy, the one just up the road," Spencer said before he had to ask.

He thanked her and ran, grateful that he was in the habit of running often. _Please don't let her be gone… please don't let her be gone…_

Luck was clearly on his side as he got to the bus stop in question, as she was the only one at the bus stop. Her bags were nearly stacked, and she was watching straight ahead.

"Don't go. Please."

She turned to him, seeming to look straight through him. He felt oddly self-conscious under her gaze, feeling like she was assessing him for something. Somehow he had the feeling that if he was being assessed, he wasn't passing. As he waited for her answer, he realized he was holding his breath.

She sighed and shook her head. "It's over, remember? You said yourself that if I left, it was over."

"I know I did. But I made a mistake. We don't need to break up. I'm begging you to stay. Can we work this out? Baby, we can work this out. Please, just don't go. Stay here in Rosewood."

_Maybe if I get down on my knees and beg…would she stay then?_

_Probably not…_

The roar of an approaching bus cut him off as he was about to speak, and she stepped to the kerb to flag it down. As it pulled up to the stop, she swivelled around, grabbed her things and stepped on. He watched her pay the driver and the driver laugh at something she said before she took a seat facing forward.

The bus pulled away from the kerb as he watched, the tight feeling in his chest and throat making it hard to breathe. The exhaust fumes surrounded him, but he barely noticed-any other time, he would have covered his face until the fumes cleared.

Finally the bus disappeared from view and he turned and left. Once in his apartment, his stupidity hit him. He'd thought they had so many plans together, when really they were no more than his plans and dreams. He'd never thought to share them with Aria, and now he hated himself for it. _If I had told her what I wanted for us in the future, maybe she would have stayed_, he reflected.

Aria watched the scenery race past as the bus made its way to the airport. Strangely, she didn't feel so bad about leaving Ezra. They'd been together for so long and were at different stages in their lives and what they wanted.

The journey to the airport was quick, traffic was good, and she was early for her flight. She paused to peruse the magazines and books on offer and got her tickets. It occurred to her that all these mundane activities led up to something bigger, and suddenly she was almost grateful she'd left Ezra.

Finally the words she'd been wanting to hear: _Flight 675 to London, England, now boarding. I repeat, flight 675 to London, England is now boarding. Please make your way to the boarding gate and have your passport and ticket ready._

She gathered her stuff and, after someone ahead of her had some problems with their ticket, she boarded the plane.

Ezra sat in his apartment, the ticking of the clock the only noise in the silent room. Three whiskeys had done nothing to numb the pain, only his thoughts. The problem was, he was barely thinking anything but the one question.

_What went wrong?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Italicized are the lyrics from Things People Say, which Lady Antebellum owns and I do not. Ezra and Aria belong to Sara Shepard, meaning I own nothing. Keep in mind, I don't know anything about Oxford, so sorry if I get my facts wrong.**

Things People Say

_There I was at the bus stop begging you just to stayCan we work this out, baby we can work this outA dust trail from a Greyhound headed for the West CoastAs I watch you leave, it's getting hard to breathe_

_No this ain't how it was suppose to beYou're out chasing all your dreamsTell me where does that leave me_

I glared at my reflection in the mirror. It was five days after Aria had left for England, and now the word that came to mind when I looked at my reflection was _pathetic._ My hair was an uncombed mess, my eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and maybe too much alcohol, and I hadn't been inclined to shave. I barely recognized myself. For some reason, I kept going over the day Aria left. Seeing her packing her stuff together like it was nothing… begging her at the bus stop not to go… that tightness in my throat and the burning in my eyes I always got when I was trying to keep my emotions in check… her dismissing me like we hadn't just been in a long-term relationship a few weeks ago.

Suddenly furious, I hurled a photo frame at the mirror, hoping it would break. Of course, the mirror didn't break. It seemed to be a perfect metaphor for my life lately: things I wanted to keep whole broke, and things I wanted to break stayed whole.

It pissed me off.

And even while I was shaking in anger at how my life was now, I was still upset. With Aria gone, where did that leave me? When I'd told Hardy that she'd gone, his solution had been to go to the supermarket, stock up on booze and drink until obliterated. That had worked for all of thirteen hours, until I woke up hungover and still miserable that Aria had gone.

Looking around my apartment, I realized just how thoroughly her presence was embedded in my life and home. The photo on my desk-she'd sent that from France during one of her holidays. The cookbooks by the door were joke gifts she'd given me one Christmas, before giving me a personalized journal. Her graduation photo still sat on my nightstand, and there was still her jersey draped over my desk chair. Picking it up, I noticed immediately that it still had the scent of her perfume. The second pillow on my bed, from when she began staying over in her second year of college after we came out as a couple. I'd gone straight out and got her a pillow, figuring she would want her own space occasionally.

Her hair stuff still took up space in the bathroom, as did random tubes of her makeup. Some of her old CDs were still on the bookshelf and a pair of her shoes were buried in my wardrobe. I remembered watching her getting dressed to go out, and wondering how she managed to walk a steady line in those shoes-the heels were at least three inches tall. She'd told me it was a girl thing, and I'd puzzled that any woman would ever want to wear shoes that looked so uncomfortable.

_What about the plans that you left behindThe little white house by the railway lineThe one we picked outWe even put the payment downWhat about the promise that you madeTo stay with me till your dying daySaid you'd never go awayAre they just things that people say?Are they just things, baby?_

When I'd picked up the real estate brochure, I had gone through and looked for a house that might suit us. I found one, a little two-bedroom house that was bigger than my apartment but not so big that we couldn't feel at home in it. It was a little shabby, but that suited me, and I was fairly sure it would suit Aria too. I'd been grateful that she was in college quite far away, as it meant I could take on a second job and save for the deposit on the house.

Now, I was grateful that I had yet to actually put the payment down. I knew they weren't her plans, but I wanted to surprise her one day by telling her that we had a house.

On the other hand, I could put the payment down now, fix up anything in the house that needed to be fixed, and start making it feel like a home. I could take cooking classes and learn to make more than just a few meals.

With that in mind, I got ready to go to the real estate and put the payment down. I just wished that she'd kept her promise to stay with me for good.

Until her dying days, that was what she'd promised. Now though, she'd gone, probably for good.

Maybe I was an idiot for basically signing away my soul and most of my savings, but I was in love. Even though she'd left me and taken my heart when she left, I loved her.

_The preacher stopped by the house last TuesdayAsked if I was fineWe sat and talked a whileHe tried to make me smileBut it's so hard to show my face 'round latelyIn this small townI guess they heard the news'Bout me and you_

People began stopping by to check up on me. Even Hardy recognized that the so-called alcohol therapy wasn't going to help, and had a friend from church stop by to make sure I was okay. I appreciated their concern, and managed to make conversation, although I suspect in my haze I was mainly just talking about Aria and trying to work out why she left. Hardy's friend from the church did his best to make me smile, and I tried hard to, but the effort was too much. At the time when the preacher was doing his best to help, I really just wanted to curl up under the covers and hide.

Mainly, I did just that. I holed up in my apartment, both grateful for and cursing the fact that it was summer. I was grateful because it meant I didn't need to be anywhere: no appointments or classes to teach; cursing it because it was too bright, harshly so and I wished for storms. I wanted the noise of thunder, the gloom of rain, the darkness of a cloudy sky.

People knew Aria had left me-that news had spread like wildfire. Hanna, Emily and Spencer would have been the first to know, so it was natural that they would tell their families. Aria's parents would have told extended family that Aria had broken up with me, while her brother told his friends. Of course, the fascination with our relationship was because she and I had once been student and teacher. If we'd been a couple when we met in college, far fewer people would have been concerned with the status of our relationship.

As it was, people thought we'd only begun dating after she began college.

Regardless, I hid away from everyone. Eventually, I realised that the lack of food should probably be fixed, so I reluctantly made my way to the supermarket.

As soon as I set foot in there, I wanted to turn and go back home. I felt like anyone near was looking at me, probably with pity. I made my way quickly to the fast-food aisle, collecting a few containers of two-minute noodles and then gathered a random collection of frozen dinners, just so I could get home as soon I could.

_It's 3 a.m. and I can't sleep at allI wonder where you are tonightAnd do I ever cross your mind?_

Time passed, as it always does. The pain didn't lessen any, and it seemed that I was becoming an insomniac. Sleep had never come easily to me, but I used to be able to get a decent six or seven hours of sleep after drifting off at around midnight. Now though, I tended to be still awake through the night. The proof of this was increasing too: I was paler and the circles under my eyes were increasingly darker, by now almost purple and strangely bruise-like. Most nights when I looked at the clock, the glowing digits always indicated somewhere between three and four A.M.

And of course, as always was the case, Aria filled my thoughts. Where was she tonight, I wondered? Was she happy? Does she ever think of me? Does she lie awake at night or sleep soundly?

As the time passed, my thoughts took a more painful direction. Is she seeing someone new? Has she moved on at all? Does she ever find it difficult to function, or does she live her life and travel and do all the things she wanted to?

I took to playing solitaire on my laptop every night. It was mind-numbing, shifting and flipping over the cards, but that was why I liked it. And of course there was a certain irony in what solitaire was: both in the fact that it was a game to be played alone, and that it also referred to a gemstone in a ring.

Realizing that, my thoughts returned to the ring I'd bought not long before Aria's graduation. After she left, I hid it away, not daring to look at it. Now though, I wanted to look at it. I crossed my room and retrieved it from the corner of the drawer, tilting it this way and that.

Regret filled me as I studied the simple diamond in a white-gold band, then flipped it to read the inscription-love always. When I'd bought it, I had to steal one of Aria's rings so I could be sure to get the right size and then spent hours imagining how it would look on her ring finger.

If I'd been more upfront with her, told her why I wanted her to stay in America, maybe things wouldn't be this way. I shouldn't have been so stubborn on how I proposed either-I'd convinced myself that a really grand gesture was vital, but now, I realized Aria didn't necessarily need anything grand. I knew her well enough to know that something smaller and more low-key was her preference, and now I was kicking myself.

The rest of the summer dragged along, and I had to spend my last weeks preparing lessons and assignments and course outlines. I was still nowhere over Aria, but I had found that immersing myself in work helped me forget her for a few hours. The semester began and I managed to give my lectures relatively well, after I changed the class syllabus to contain less topics that reminded me of Aria.

The year passed in a blur of lectures and marking. Before the semester started, I had decided not to date again until I was fully over her. Luckily for me, I found out from her father in late November that she wouldn't be returning for Christmas, explaining that she would probably be working right up until the holiday. I felt relieved that I wouldn't have to run the risk of seeing her if she came back to Rosewood and decided to visit her father at Hollis.

One day towards the end of the semester I needed to borrow a book from his office: I found him sitting in the office looking through a photo album. It turned out that she had sent him the album so he could see her travels. My heart rate picked up on seeing her familiar handwriting next to the photos, and then the photos she'd put into the album. Pictures of her with other people, on her own, in front of well-known landmarks and of completely random things like a lamppost or a streetlight.

Just seeing that unravelled all my work to put her to the back of my mind, as did Ella's suggestion that I join them for Christmas dinner. Her kindness combined with Byron's insistence that I agree to it was a force that I couldn't seem to refuse, and I silently kicked myself as soon as I agreed.

I left without the book I needed and with plans to spend Christmas dinner with my ex-girlfriend's family.

Christmas passed easily, although we all felt her absence.

I continued to teach, deciding that I would wait the semester out and quit so I could focus on my writing and trying to get published. At the start of the summer, I began packing my belongings and stripping my office in preparation to leave, not feeling much of anything. For a while, I toyed with the idea of moving somewhere entirely new and trying to start fresh, but I decided against it when I realized I wouldn't be able to move away from my thoughts. Resigned, I stayed in Rosewood and it was late August when I remembered the house I'd bought. I wondered if I should be worried that I'd been in such a haze all year that I'd forgotten about buying a house.

When I went to the house to see what needed doing, it seemed different. It took several minutes before I figured it out: the house looked abandoned. A year ago it had been neatly kept, if a little shabby.

Now though, it was rundown and would definitely need more work done.

I worked steadily during the autumn. My first attempts to wallpaper failed miserably, and I got numerous splinters. I welcomed the pain though, as it all distracted me and diverted my thoughts away from her. Once finished, I decided, I'd sell the house and try to make some profit.

Winter came and it was recommended that I not paint the house until the weather warmed up some, as the cold could somehow affect the paint.

Since I still needed a diversion, I favoured writing during the winter. I tried to write a novel, but my lead female character always seemed to me like I was just writing about her-the petite brunette girl who loved writing and was passionate about literature, enough that she left her boyfriend to go overseas and do her doctorate in English literature.

Winter passed into spring, and I resumed working on the house. I was finally satisfied in late October, two years after she left. I consulted with a real estate agent, who told me that the house was now worth at least double what it had been when I bought it. Apparently this was in part because of my renovations; also because the house market was good and if I wanted maximum profit, I should put it on the market as soon as possible.

Something held me back from selling though, and I told the agent that I would have to consider it for a little while, that the money wasn't the only factor.

By now I'd saved up a decent amount of money, and I realized that I should find out if it was worth keeping the house. Byron told me that again Aria wouldn't be home for Christmas; I booked a flight to England to visit her at Oxford in December.

I arrived in London on the fourth of December, and thought it better to check into a hotel straightaway. Upon checking into the hotel, I crashed within minutes, dreaming of seeing Aria again.

Thirty-six hours later, I calculated the time and day to realize that Aria would probably be at Oxford now. I grabbed my various forms of ID, and raced to get the bus to Oxford as if the university would be leaving any time now. My luck held; I got on the bus seconds after I got to the bus stop and the journey was quick. Upon reaching the university, I wandered around like an idiot before I found the enquiries office to get directed to the English department. Once there I was directed to Aria's office-why did she have an office?-and made my way there. As I made my way down the corridor, I felt endlessly uneasy. My nerves were on edge and I couldn't help but think the worst. She wouldn't want to see me. She wouldn't recognize me.

I finally reached the office and knocked, being greeted with an invitation to come in almost immediately. I did, then stood awkwardly in front of her desk and watched her writing something before she looked up.

This was not the Aria I knew. Her once-long hair had been cut short, and her makeup was softer, more natural. Her outlandish outfits had been toned down to something much more professional, and I recalled the Dr. on the plaque on the door.

She didn't look pleased to see me either, and when she spoke, her words were clipped and businesslike. I immediately had a flashback to the night she left. She'd sounded like this back then.

"What are you doing here?" Also unusual of Aria to get straight to the point.

I sat down, scrutinizing her expression for any hint of friendliness or warmth, and found none.

"You've been gone for two years… I wanted to talk to you. Your dad told me you haven't come back in that time, so I decided to come to you."

"Why?"

I fidgeted with the small jewellery box in my jacket pocket, wondering how to start. Now she just looked impatient, like she wanted me to get my spiel over and done with so she could get back to work. She lifted her left hand to swipe a piece of hair out of her face, and I noticed the ring on her left finger.

This, I hadn't thought of seeing. I sat frozen, staring at it numbly for a minute before she saw where I was looking and sighed.

"Yes, it's an engagement ring. Why are you here?"

_What about the plans that you left behindThe little white house by the railway lineThe one we picked outWe even put the payment downWhat about the promise that you madeTo stay with me till your dying daySaid you'd never go awayAre they just things that people say?_

I shook my head and stood, yanking my coat back on and tripping slightly in my haste to get out the door.

"This was a mistake, I never should have come here, I'll get going now." I rushed out a few more words and fled, suddenly desperate to get back to Rosewood. Now, I knew what I was going to do.

First, I'd call the real estate agent and sell the house, now I knew I had no future with Aria. Then, I'd pack all my stuff and leave Rosewood, find somewhere to live that I wouldn't be reminded of her. I wouldn't stop to say goodbyes: I just had to go.

Back in Rosewood, I packed my things while telling the agent I wanted to put the house up for sale. He agreed immediately, and I told him he could do whatever he liked to sell the place. I managed to cram everything into my car, and took off. I had no idea where I was going, just that I had to get completely away.

_Well, my momma won't stop cryingShe wonders what went wrongCould I have loved a little deeperOr did I hold on too strong?Woah, no_

After I'd been driving for several hours, I called my mom to tell her everything that had happened. It broke her heart, and mine all over again as I heard the tears in her voice. I knew that she knew I had been happy with Aria: the fact that I flew to England just to see her, only to find her engaged, was enough to break her heart. She tried to convince me that I hadn't loved Aria too much or too little, but her words failed to console either of us. Neither of us was convinced, and I felt that there was some reason Aria had left without trying to make things work.

_What about the plans that you left behindThe little white house by the railway lineThe one we picked outWe even put the payment downWhat about the promise that you madeTo stay with me till your dying daySaid you'd never go awayAre they just things that people say?Woah, are they just things, baby?Woah_

All I knew now was, I'd lost Aria for good, and I didn't know how I was going to move on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay. I don't normally like ambiguous endings, but this is the finish to this story before the sequel. As for will they end up together?: I am like A. I know all, but no-one else does. Or something to that effect. Anyway, y'all should know by now I own nothing. Wait, I tell a lie: I do own Aria's fiancé. And, you know, don't kill me. Please. I like my life. Thank you to HarrylovesGinny09 for helping me with the ending when I had a bit of writers' block. Much appreciated. Thanks for all the feedback, it all makes my day. There's a surprise at the end of this chapter: see if you can tell what my intent with the last three paragraphs (in italics) is. SolitudeMyLove suggested it, so I delivered! It's my insurance policy: this way, I will do a sequel. Promise to Shakespeare or y'all can send A after me. Anyway, enough from me.**

Ezra collapsed in his motel room after his conversation with his mother, exhausted. Rather than try to unpack, he curled up on the uncomfortable bed and rehashed everything that had transpired when he went to England.

Much like he had before, he recalled the time in fragments. Aria's engagement ring… her unfriendliness… her icy, professional demeanour…

For the next week, Ezra lived out of his suitcase.

One day he was digging through the messy suitcase, looking for a clean shirt, when he found the new journal he'd picked up at a random bookstore some days ago. Every page was perfectly blank, and there was nothing to indicate that it had been a gift from Aria.

It seemed fitting that he use this journal to start writing. A blank book was somehow equal to the proverbial clean slate, and it begged to be filled with a story. Ezra had held off writing anything until he was sure he had a story to tell, and now he did.

It was the first time in a while that he picked up a pen and started writing again, his hand racing across the pages.

Time passed in a blur, and when he finally sat back from writing with an aching hand, he couldn't have said whether he'd been writing for five minutes or five hours.

Out of habit, his thoughts drifted back to Aria. _If she read this, maybe it'd help her understand my side of things before we broke up…._

Reviewing his notes, he noticed how frequently heartbreak came up as a theme.

In that case, this would be a story about a couple who were in love, but the male protagonist would be the one left heartbroken after his girlfriend left him to pursue career opportunities. Then, his heartbreak would be renewed all over again after he flew overseas to visit her, only to find her engaged and not at all the woman he once knew.

If she was happy, he'd find a way to get through somehow.

Aria holed up in her office, planning lessons although she really didn't need to. Mostly, it was just a distraction from seeing Ezra the other day. She'd been startled to see him, caught off guard by such a prominent figure in her past.

The entire interaction had been strange. He hadn't been his usual articulate self even before he noticed her ring. Then he saw it and bolted as soon as she'd confirmed what it was. It was completely unlike him: surely he'd at least want answers about why she left or what she was doing?

He had to still care, she brooded, especially if he flew to England just to see her.

The door handle creaked and she tensed, an old reflex from during high school when she was dealing with A: her fiancé Dave slipped through the door and stood in front of the desk, holding one hand suspiciously behind his back. He always had the habit of sneaking into her office as if he was a high schooler sneaking around, which she loved.

He stepped forward, covering her eyes with his free hand and placing something on the desk-she heard a faint _ping_ as something metal-sounding dropped onto the desk. Stepping back, he watched her reaction.

It was a delicate silver charm bracelet, with three charms-the Eiffel Tower, a book and a cupcake. Three things that were significant to them: six months ago, after dating for almost a year, they'd gotten engaged on the Eiffel Tower. The cupcake was a symbol of the first time they'd kissed-one night he was trying to make cupcakes to impress her and decorate them fancily, then after the cupcakes failed, she leaned over and kissed him. From there, their relationship progressed well. And the book was a symbol of how they met in the first place, when she was in her first year of her thesis-he'd been searching for the book that she'd been holding in a bookstore and they'd argued briefly about who should take it. Finally the store assistant stepped in with another copy, and she impulsively asked him if he wanted to go for a coffee.

From the first date, she'd been in love with him. She loved how he wasn't exactly the same as her-in fact, he'd done a doctorate in art history.

When he asked her on an actual date, she'd been thrilled. Partly to get over Ezra, and partly because the whole idea of going out on a date in public was still so new to her. She loved going out to dinner, holding hands occasionally, and not worrying about who might see. This seemed to her the best way to start a relationship, rather than years of sneaking around and secrecy.

On their second date, it occurred to her that people did this every day. She suggested seeing a movie as well as dinner-she wanted people to _see_ them together. Their relationship started easily and naturally.

In short, it was the exact opposite of how her and Ezra's relationship had started. And she loved it all.

After a year of dating she sensed a shift in their relationship. He was a year older than her, so completed his thesis the year before she did. He seemed to want to make what they had official, while she was still working on her thesis. They travelled together often on the weekends, slipping away, grabbing the first train leaving the station. Half the time they barely packed anything, just a camera, a book and something to write or draw in.

They told each other everything, even their deepest secrets. He knew all about A and even the fact that she dated her high school English teacher. She knew how he'd risked being disowned for studying art history instead of law, as his father wanted and that he used to pretend to be the child his parents wanted him to be, rather than being himself.

One Friday evening, she arrived home to her flat to find him there, with a couple of bags packed. This wasn't unusual-they sometimes did this to surprise the other. What was unusual was that he seemed determined for some reason, as if there was a particular train he wanted to catch; then, when they got to the station he headed straight for the train and handed over tickets when normally they would ask at the desk where the trains were going and then pick a place.

This time, he didn't say where they were going or what they were doing. The next morning it was still dark when he woke her, coaxed her to get up and they left the hostel. It turned out they were going to the Eiffel Tower to watch the sun rise, after he'd called in a favour, and once on the highest level of the tower, he proposed.

Of course, Aria said yes straightaway.

A few days later, her supervisor told her that because of the progress she'd made on her thesis, she could potentially finish the entire thing within what remained of the academic year. Working even harder than she did before, she completed her thesis and graduated, accepting a job teaching at Oxford for next year.

Now, she had a wedding to plan.

At the moment they were thinking of eloping, to save the hassle of having to worry about if family and friends would be able to make it. If they had the wedding in America, Dave's family might not be able to go, and it they had it in England, her family and friends might not be able to make it. As a result, it seemed more reasonable for them to elope and then travel, visiting first his parents to break the news and share photos, then visiting her family and friends.

A thought occurred to Aria-if they eloped and no-one knew, then there wouldn't be anyone available to speak up and try to stop them from getting married. That was definitely a bonus, especially since Ezra had visited. When she'd brought up his visit to Dave, he'd suggested that Ezra might try to stop the wedding.

Aria didn't know about that, but then she wasn't exactly in a position to judge. With the exception of that strange visit, she hadn't spoken to him in two years and even then, they hadn't talked properly.

Keeping that in mind, she resolved to stop thinking about Ezra entirely and focus on her wedding.

Ezra had worked endlessly for days at a time on his writing, and finally graduated to writing on his laptop. By now he had a full novel written, completely about him and Aria. It was stupid, he knew-she was getting married. At some point, she'd be gone from his reach for good. He knew she wasn't likely to cheat. He also knew that she wasn't one to renege on plans she had made, which meant it would be much harder to win her away from her fiancé.

He worked through the sheaf of paper he'd just printed, reviewing it and mentally drafting enquiry letters. Hopefully he could get it published and be able to send Aria a personalized copy. It was lucky that he had some friends who worked in the publishing industry and might be able to pull some strings.

Since he'd not been able to explain himself to Aria in her office, he would have to take the next best thing of explaining himself in a book dedicated to her.

Ezra finally allowed himself to take a break from writing and let his mind wander, letting himself imagine what might happen once Aria read the novel and it's dedication.

_Aria walked into the room, somehow having managed to track Ezra down. Maybe she'd contacted various family members and searched online to find him. He looked at her, realizing immediately that she was the Aria he knew all those years ago. Her hair was long and she was dressed in one of the same quirky ensembles she always used to wear. Her left hand was absent of any rings, with the exception of a piece of costume jewellery on her index finger. She stood silently for a minute, clearly deciding how to word something she wanted to say. _

_Her voice was the same warm, soft tone it had been before, and she sounded happy when she told Ezra that she'd left her fiancé._

_These words reverberated through Ezra's head in the moments before he crossed the room to her, kissing her, and all thoughts ceased when she kissed him back._


	4. AN: Companion Piece

**Author's note: okay, so I'm probably not supposed to do this. Companion piece to this story is now up: called All We'd Ever Need. It will most likely be a twoshot. It was going to be the sequel, but… it worked better as a side piece.**

**Sequel **_**is**_** coming soon, and I apologise most sincerely for such a long wait. It is truly hideous of me. **

**TQoS.**


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